Deck the Halls (and Hit the Deck)
by Settiai
Summary: The Ghostbusters never have normal holidays. There are always busts to go on, ghosts to stop, demonic possessions to undo, mysterious disappearances to solve...


_Now . . ._

Winston Zeddemore groaned as awareness slowly returned, a dozen aches and pains all over his body making themselves known. His head was pounding as if he'd spent the entire night drinking, but he knew that it definitely wasn't a hangover causing the pain. It had been ages since he'd had more than a handful of beers at once. Not since he had joined the Ghostbusters and found himself doing a job where a call could come at any time, day or night. It wasn't actually a rule, just an unspoken agreement that all four of them followed, but he had been careful not to break it.

So what had happened?

Steeling himself, Winston forced his eyes open. He was lying on a concrete floor, a thick layer of dirt and grime covering it. It was dimly lit, with only a single bulb hanging a good fifteen feet above him providing any light. Groaning again, he pushed himself up into a sitting position - only to immediately regret it as a sharp, stabbing pain shot up his left arm.

Hissing with pain, he let his gaze drift over the room he was in. It looked like an empty warehouse, albeit a small one. "Peter, you around here somewhere?" he called out. "Egon? Ray?"

There wasn't any answer.

Winston frowned and tried to get his muddled brain to focus. The pounding in his head made it difficult to think, but he knew that there had to be an explanation buried in there somewhere. He was in his uniform, a proton pack resting on the floor beside him, so it was obvious that he had been out on a bust. And they never went on busts alone, so that meant at least one of the guys had to be around there somewhere.

No, that wasn't right. It wasn't one of the guys who had been with him. It had been . . .

"Janine," Winston muttered, sitting up straighter.

* * *

_Twenty-four hours earlier . . ._

"It's about time," Janine Melnitz called out, snapping her fingers as the four Ghostbusters made their way back into the firehouse. "You've got another job."

Peter Venkman shot her a disbelieving look and stopped just inside the doorway. "You have to be kidding," he said, frowning. "It's Christmas Eve . . . Eve. That has to count for something. Besides, have you looked outside lately? Winston almost wrecked Ecto three times on the drive back because it's snowing so hard."

Winston rolled his eyes as he brushed past Peter, a trap held in each hand. "No, I almost wrecked because someone kept grabbing my arm and yelling every time I hit the brakes."

Janine cleared her throat.

"He has a point, Peter," Egon Spengler said, quirking an eyebrow slightly as he brushed past Peter as well. He held out his hands toward Winston. "Let me take those. I'll put them into the containment grid."

"I do know how to unload a trap," Winston said. He shook his head but didn't argue as he handed the traps over to Egon. "Remember? It was one of the first things you guys showed me, right after Ray said 'you're hired.'"

Egon's lip twitched just a fraction. In any other person, it wouldn't have been anything, but in him it was practically a full grin. "I need to check the parameters. Ray and I were doing some tests last night, and I want to make certain everything is working correctly."

Janine cleared her throat again, this time a little louder than before.

"Yeah," Ray Stantz agreed, pulling the door shut behind him as he stepped in beside Peter, "especially if the power goes out. The generator should keep everything running, but better safe than sorry."

Peter frowned. "Wait, they're saying that the power's going to go out?"

"Were you not paying any attention to the radio on the drive back?" Winston asked. "That's all they were talking about."

Janine cleared her throat one more time. Then she picked up a huge stack of folders from her desk, coughed, and slammed them back down.

Slimer shot out from under the desk, shooting her a panicked look. He made a beeline for Peter, quickly ducking behind him.

The four men and one ghost stared at her, none of them daring to speak.

"You were saying something about a job, Janine?" Egon finally asked several seconds later, once it became clear that no one else was going to speak up.

She smiled sweetly at him, but her flashing eyes told a different story altogether. "It's so nice of you to ask."

* * *

_Now . . ._

Winston grimaced as he pulled his proton pack back onto his back. His arm ached from the weight, but he'd already checked it for broken bones. Nothing had felt out of place, so he suspected it was nothing more than a deep bruise.

Shaking his head, he made his way toward the nearest door - the only one that was open. His memories were still somewhat vague, but they were slowly coming back in bits and pieces. He at least remembered where he was and why he was there, even if the "why was he alone?" part was still mostly a mystery. He needed to find Janine, of that much he was certain. Once he did, he could work out the rest from there.

He bit back the urge to call out Janine's name like he had the others' as he stopped in the doorway and peered into the adjoining room. It was another part of the warehouse, larger and more cluttered than the one he had been in. Until he knew what had knocked him unconscious, he couldn't risk shouting again. For all he knew, whatever it was could still be out there somewhere.

Winston made his way through the door, trying to stay as quiet as he could. It had been some time since he had really needed to use his Marine training, but it was almost surprisingly simple for him to slip back into it.

* * *

_Twenty hours earlier . . ._

"An urgent job, she said," Peter grumbled, shaking his head and letting his arms fall back down to his sides. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his PKE meter. "It couldn't wait, she said. The client was insistent, she said."

Egon frowned at him. "Peter, it's not Janine's fault that someone apparently lied to her about the seriousness of the situation."

Peter snorted. "Lied to her," he repeated. "Yeah, I'm sure that's what happened."

Ray turned toward him, a hurt look on his face. "Come on, Peter, you know that Janine wouldn't have sent us out here in the middle of a blizzard if she hadn't really thought it was important."

"Actually," Egon pointed out, "it's only a winter storm, not a blizzard. For it to be a blizzard, there would have to be--"

"There's nothing here," Peter cut in, waving the PKE meter around.

Winston frowned but didn't say anything. Something just felt off about the whole bust. He'd felt it the moment they walked into the warehouse, but he couldn't figure out what it was that felt wrong about the whole situation.

Egon's frown deepened as he studied his own PKE meter. "Hmm. That's odd."

"Odd?" Winston repeated, his query overlapping with Ray's: "What's odd?"

Egon didn't reply as he kept fiddling with the device's controls.

After several more seconds had passed, Peter finally sighed. "Okay, Spengs, I'll bite. What did you find that I missed?"

"I'm finding trace readings," Egon said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "They're barely there, but they're not faded."

"So there used to be something here but it's gone now?" Ray suggested.

Winston narrowed his eyes, letting his gaze drift over the room suspiciously. "They'd be faded then," he said, hoisting his proton pack a little. "Hey Egon, could something be hiding its energy? Making us think it's not here when it is?"

Egon's eyes widened. "That's a very good possibility."

"Yeah, it is," Peter said, bringing his proton gun back up. "What made you think of it?"

"I keep feeling like we're being watched," Winston replied, still looking around the warehouse.

The others' gazes followed his, all of their faces suddenly wary. Ray grimaced. "Maybe we should get out of here until we figure out what's going on?"

* * *

_Nineteen-and-a-half hours earlier . . ._

They were almost to the exit when laughter suddenly filled the building. "VERY GOOD!"

Without saying a word, all four of the Ghostbusters brought their proton guns up. Winston spun around, his eyes darting here and there, but there wasn't anything to aim at. The others were in a similar situation.

"STILL, I WAS HOPING THIS MIGHT BE A CHALLENGE. PERHAPS NOT."

A flash of purple smoke appeared out of nowhere, directly behind Peter.

"Peter!" Winston yelled, his warning mingling with Egon and Ray's.

Peter spun around, energy already shooting from his proton gun as he did. The smoke didn't dissipate; if anything, it grew. Without warning, it suddenly sprang forward and completely engulfed Peter, who let out a strangled cry before going silent.

"Peter!" Egon yelled.

Winston realized what Egon was about to do seconds before he dashed forward, and he frantically grabbed at the blond man's arm. His fingers missed by less than an inch.

Ray's reflexes were faster, or maybe he just knew Egon better. He managed to grab Egon's arm, holding his friend in place less than a foot away from the smoke.

"Don't get too close," Winston warned, aiming his proton gun at the smoke. He didn't shoot it; the last thing they needed was for it to get any larger than it already was.

The eerie laughter echoed through the warehouse, and the smoke sprang forward again. As Egon disappeared inside it, Ray didn't loosen his grip on Egon's arm.

"Winston!" Ray shouted. Sweat pooled on his forehead, and it was obvious that he was trying to pull Egon back out of the smoke. "Help me!"

The smoke started moving closer to Ray, covering more of his arm. His face grew paler, and his breathing started coming in short gasps. The smoke, whatever it was, was obviously doing something to him.

Winston sprang forward and grabbed Ray's arm, inches away from the smoke. He quickly started pulling. "Let go of Egon."

Ray stared at him, wide-eyed. "I can't," he said, his voice trembling. "Winston, it's Egon. I can't just . . ."

"We have to figure out what the hell this thing is if we're going to help them," Winston snapped, failing to keep his voice as calm as he had hoped. "Come on, Ray. I'm not exactly the researcher of the team."

Winston could tell exactly when Ray let go. The younger man seemed to slump in on himself, and the second he did Winston pulled on his arm with as much strength as possible.

The moment Ray's arm was out of the smoke, Winston grabbed Ray by the shoulders and started manhandling him toward the door. The smoke stayed where it was, hovering in place as if it was watching them leave.

As they stumbled outside, the door slamming shut behind them, Winston heard the laughter again.

* * *

_Now . . ._

Somewhere on the other side of the warehouse, a woman screamed. Familiar laughter filled the building.

A handful of memories jumped to the forefront of Winston's mind, and he hissed out several creative curses as he remembered what the plan had been. "Damn it, Janine," he muttered, taking off at a sprint in the direction that the scream had come from.

He was going to kill her, if the demon didn't beat him to it.

* * *

_Eighteen hours earlier . . ._

"What happened?" Janine asked, her eyes wide as rushed over to help Winston support Ray as they came stumbling through the door to the firehouse. "Where's Egon and Dr. V?"

Winston shook his head. "It was a trap," he said, gladly letting her take some of Ray's weight off of him. The other man was conscious, but it was as if the supernatural smoke had completely drained away all of his energy. He'd barely had the strength to stand when they left the warehouse, and it looked like had hadn't regained any of it during the long drive across the snow covered city. "Whatever it was that was at the warehouse, it took them."

Janine looked horrified as they helped Ray sit down in a chair. "Oh God," she whispered, dropping down into a chair beside him. "I didn't suspect anything. I swear that I didn't, Winston."

Ray shot her a weak grin. "It's not your fault, Janine. You didn't know anything was wrong."

She didn't look as if she believed him, but she didn't argue either. Winston decided to count that as a plus. "What are we going to do?" Janine asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Research," Ray said. Despite the weakness in his voice, he still somehow managed to sound eager about the idea of digging through a pile of dusty books. "We have to find out what it was that took Peter and Egon if we're going to get them back."

* * *

_Ten hours earlier . . ._

"There has to be something here," Ray muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion.

Winston shared a look with Janine over Ray's head. The younger man could barely sit up, but he had still managed to make his way through almost a dozen thick tomes over the past eight hours. They'd split the load up as best they could, but the majority of the books were in languages that only Ray could read. Winston had taken the ones written in French and Latin, while Janine had grabbed those in Hebrew and Italian, but neither of them was fluent enough in anything other than English to make their way through the books quickly.

"We'll find something," Janine said, her voice firm. She glared at Winston as if daring him to argue with her.

He simply nodded. "Yeah, we'll find something. I don't even want to think about the complaining Peter will do if he misses Christmas."

Janine smiled at him, and Ray even managed a weak chuckle before letting his attention drift back to the latest book he was studying. After a few seconds, Winston sighed and followed Ray's example.

* * *

_Now . . ._

He should have known better. That thought kept running through Winston's head, his own private mantra. It should have been obvious, but he hadn't even noticed until the last second.

There hadn't been any screams for several minutes.

"Come on, Janine," he whispered inside his head. He would have said it out loud, but he didn't want to waste any breath that he didn't have to as he sprinted through the warehouse. "They're depending on us."

* * *

_Four hours earlier . . ._

"This is it!"

Janine jumped up from her seat and shoved a book into Winston's hands. He glanced down at it, blinking several times to remove the grit from his eyes. It had been well over twenty-four hours since the last time he'd slept, and tiredness was beginning to make focusing on text difficult.

Without saying a word, he scanned the page that she'd opened the book to. Luckily it was written in English, so he didn't have to worry about trying to translate anything. That part of his brain had stopped working at least two hours earlier.

"You know what, Janine?" he said slowly, glancing up at her. It looked like she was holding her breath. "I think you've found something."

Beside them, Ray snapped his fingers. It barely made a sound, but Winston didn't hesitate as he handed the book over to Ray.

Ray skimmed over the pages quickly, his eyes widening. "Huh," he said, sounding surprised, "what's a Macedonian demon doing in a New York City warehouse?"

"Does it matter?" Janine asked, grabbing Ray's proton pack off the floor. "We know how to get the others back."

Winston shared a look with Ray. "What are you doing, Janine?" he asked, standing up. He picked up his own proton pack.

"Please," Janine said, rolling her eyes, "nobody goes on a bust alone. It's one of the rules. We all know that Ray's been affected by this demon, even if none of us are admitting it, and there's no way he can go with you."

Winston and Ray shared another look, but neither of them argued.

Janine just glared at them both. "Well, are you coming or not?"

* * *

_Now . . ._

Winston ran past a huge stack of boxes and came to a sudden halt. Janine was standing there, a smug look on her face. Egon and Peter were lying on the floor, unconscious, at her feet.

"Where's the demon?" he asked.

Janine shrugged. "The book was right," she replied. "One loud scream, and it turned tail and ran. I doubt we'll see it in NYC again anytime soon."

He blinked. "Well, that was anticlimactic."

"You're the one who volunteered to be the diversion," Janine said, quirking an eyebrow. "It's not my fault that you didn't want to scream to save the day."

Winston shot her a look. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, reaching up to rub his head.

Janine shot him a pitying look. "Headache?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "If I feel this bad after less than an hour, I don't want to even think about how poor Ray must be feeling right now."

Peter let out a groan and stirred a little. Then he went back to lying there motionless.

Winston sighed. "Come on," he said. "Let's get the sleeping beauties here back to Ecto before the snow gets any worse than it already is."

* * *

_Two hours later . . ._

Winston tried to hide his smile as Janine launched herself at the finally conscious Egon, hugging him tightly. Egon froze for half a second before hugging her back, carefully not letting his gaze meet that of any of his teammates.

"For the record, this was _not_ how I wanted to speaking Christmas Eve Eve," Peter grumbled, rubbing his temples.

"Actually," Ray supplied helpfully, his voice almost back to full strength, "it's Christmas Eve. You've been missing for twenty-four hours."

Peter's face fell and he dove for the phone on Janine's desk. "I was supposed to have a date tonight!"

Winston chuckled as he reached over and plucked the phone from Peter's hand. "You mean last night," he said, gesturing toward the clock. Its hands were just a little past the twelve. "It's after midnight."

"Merry Christmas, Dr V," Janine said, pulling away from Egon and shooting them all a big smile. "All of you."

Peter sighed, obviously still thinking about his date. Then he smiled and threw his arm around Janine's shoulder. "Happy Hanukkah, Janine."

Ray coughed. "It ended last week."

Winston chuckled as Peter's face fell. He dropped down into the remaining empty chair and closed his eyes. It was good to have everything back to normal.


End file.
